


ticking.

by Lackyducks



Category: Funhaus (Video Blogging RPF)
Genre: Bank Robbery, Gunshot Wounds, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 16:15:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13344852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lackyducks/pseuds/Lackyducks
Summary: Murphy's Law is abitchand sometimes there are no good endings.James tries to make the best one he can.





	ticking.

**Author's Note:**

> this was done for a secret santa! and is the first time i'd ever written main character death that wasn't temporary. it was a scary experience, so thanks to [apollo](http://shiphaus.co.vu) for helping me make it sadder. u played urself.

Adam is shot. 

It happens in less than a second. One moment he's cracking a joke, James looking over at him with a smile. He can hear the others over the earpiece, laughing along with him. The area outside the vault is empty besides them. James is setting up his explosives; Haus is big, and loud, and why bother with fancy drills when you can just blow it instead? Adam is watching James’ back, gun tucked into his chest, eyes soft and scrunched as he smiles, a silent fire burning behind them.

James turns back to the vault door and that’s when it happens.

There’s a shot, not one from their guns. James spins, gun grabbed from his hip in an instant, firing on the unfamiliar figure and  _ what kind of bank has hidden doors?  _ Adam is already falling and James watches with a complete feeling of uselessness. He doesn’t think besides  _ Adam,  _ rushes to him, searching for the bullet. It caught him in his arm, why do they get the one guy who’s a shitty shot? Why not into the vest? James’ movements are almost feverish, pulling Adam up in front of him, hands cupping his cheeks.

“Oh god, Adam, fuck,” He mutters, nonsensically trying to pull him closer. 

Adam laughs, a harsh, tired sound, weaved with pain, “James, you’re panicking more than I am.” James gives him a shocked stare, purses his lips at him.

“You were just shot, Adam.”

“I’ve been shot before,  _ James.”  _ Adam is quick to reply, although he winces immediately after, hand reaching up to the bloody arm. James is immediately beating him to it, pressing on the wound as Adam groans, leans forward and then freezes, “James!” He’s looking over his shoulder, James twists.

He's too late, a piercing alarm screeches out, the doors slamming on either side of them. James shoots, but not before the man he thought was dead does. It hits the vault door, goes wide, and the man collapses as blood splatters behind him. James didn't even realise he'd tucked Adam into his chest until Adam's looking up again, blinking blankly. He seems a lot more out of it, suddenly. James can't work out why, just holds him tight. He can barely hear the others’ voices, actually no, he can't hear the others at all. He puts his hand to his ear, presses in the earpiece. There’s nothing, maybe a buzz he can’t quite hear over the siren. He doesn’t think Adam’s noticed, he hopes Adam hasn’t noticed. 

“Hey, babe, you with me?” James asks, softly. Adam blinks his eyes a little more, nods and rests his head on James’ shoulder.

“‘M here, it’s fine.” Adam lazily shrugs, wincing a little more after. He doesn’t lift his head from James’ shoulder, instead sighs out, long and slow. “Just a bit tired.”

“Yeah, well, don’t fall asleep on me. Like you said Mr. ‘I’ve been shot before’.” Adam laughs at that, James can feel him smile against him. Adam goes quiet and James feels a cold realisation in his stomach. He props Adam up against one of the desks, as gentle as he can. With a glance at the doors, he grabs the knife from its holster, brings it to his own sleeve, tears it off. “Right, move your hand, let's get this bandaged.” 

“Cool, dad.” 

James rolls his eyes, “Keep your kinks out of the bank we’re robbing.” 

“Of course,  _ daddy.”  _ Adam holds the ‘y’ for effect. James huffs out a laugh, hardly able to feel it past the lump in his throat. He pulls Adam's sleeve up, feels Adam whine as the threads are pulled out of the wound.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” He whispers, ties the torn sleeve around the wound. He’s never been the best at first aid. “Right, up you go.” He pulls Adam’s arm, hears his cry but manages to get it rested upwards against the desk. That’s about all he knows, pressure and keep it raised. There are tears gathering in Adam’s eyes and James carefully rubs them away. “There you go, all done.”

“Sorry,” Adam bites out, breathlessly, “Never gets easier.”

“I know.” James stands up, Adam follows him with his eyes, follows as James walks to the door, finally looks at it.

It’s shut, completely barred down. James can’t see what’s on the other side anymore, and he guesses the other door looks the same. He’s trapped, Adam’s trapped, and Adam is bleeding and he can’t even contact the rest of the crew. This is the worst. 

Adam groans, and James turns to look at him, “Are- Are we stuck?” James has to avoid Adam’s eyes, take a breath.

“Yeah,” he admits, Just loud enough to be heard over the sirens. Adam frowns, his head falling back against the desk. He looks as frustrated as James feels, but a lot more tired. There’s blood stained around the wound, beginning to drip down his arm. James walks over, uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe it off.

“Isn’t this one of your favourite shirts?” Adam is looking up at him with slowly blinking eyes, eyelids barely staying open.

“You’re one of my favourite people,” Adam smiles at him, and James can’t help but smile back. He needs to be smart, wait for the others to realise they’re missing. All he has to do is keep Adam alive, he can manage that. 

“You know that’s. That’s really gay.” Adam mutters. James flicks at him, Adam giggling as he leans away.

“We’re dating, Adam!”

“That’s gay, too.” James shakes his head, glad at least that Adam seems responsive still. He finally bites the bullet, sits down beside him. Adam leans over onto James’ side. His arm remains up, even if it is a bit limp.

It's then that James hears the ticking.

It's barely distinguishable over the sirens, James is pretty sure he can only hear it because he  _ knows  _ it. He risks a glance at Adam's face and he seems blessedly unaware of the sound. He props him back on the desk, stands. Adam whines after him, but this time his eyes aren't following. He slumps back in what James thinks is meant to be a pout. James tears his gaze away, takes careful steps to the vault door as if he's not sure he wants to confirm his suspicions or not. 

He stands there, staring at the digital numbers. He can't help it; he collapses against it, body arched to avoid touching the explosive. The armed explosive. Pounds his fist because what else can he do? He squeezes his fist tight, tries to breathe but can barely get the air into his lungs. He's pretty sure there are tears in his eyes, threatening to spill over but they can't, they can't because-

“James?”  _ Adam.  _ James tries to calm his breaths, push back the emotion, push back it all. 

“Yeah?” He faces Adam, leaning up against the vault door, hiding the electronic display from sight.

“What's wrong?” Adam looks so confused, bless him. He has a tiny frown, watches James with big eyes. His arm is slipping slightly.

“Nothing, frustrated, I guess.” James shrugs, walks back over, slides down next to Adam. Adam hums, falls back onto James. James huffs a laugh, reaches up and runs his hands through Adam's hair. Adam nudges into James, like an overly affectionate cat. James brings his other hand up to his mouth, bites on his knuckle to hide a sob. Adam looks completely blissed out on his shoulder.

“If I didn't know better,” Adam murmurs, voice ever so slightly slurred, “I'd say you're trying to make me fall asleep.” 

“Really?” James chokes out - curses his voice because could it  _ attempt  _ to stay steady? Adam looks up, a small crease on his brow. James tries to hide his face. Adam's scrutiny feels too obvious, too present.

“James, what's wrong?” Adam's worry is clear in his voice and James hates himself for it. His brain runs through its options, tries to think of something plausible. 

“The room's kinda, freaking me out. Sorry.” James uses the opportunity to gesture to the room, try and sneak a look at the  _ 05:03.  _ He returns to Adam as he nods, puts a hand on James’ cheek. James breaks, then. Starts crying in force, holding Adam's hand tight.

“Hey, hey, it's okay. I can give you more space?” Adam speaks slowly, stretching out the words like he's remembering how to say them. James shakes his head, pulls Adam closer. Adam's injured arm comes down, circles around James and James can't see the point in telling him off. 

“Can we go to the other side of the desk?” He asks, trying to keep his eyes focused on Adam, not wandering to the consistent countdown. It ticks in the back of his head, like the sound of his mind slowly breaking down. Adam gives him a funny look but nods anyway. James has to support him, Adam leant against his chest, feet dragging as James moves them both. He's barely walking - instead being shuffled along. James is praying, silently. He's not done that before. 

James gets Adam settled against the desk first, tucks him close, gets him comfortable. Adam sighs, tired but relaxed. His eyes droop, body falls heavy against the wood. James pets his hair again, one hand grips tight against the wound. If he can have one wish, it's that Adam gets out alive. That's all he wants. He doesn't deserve to die like this. 

He can feel the time passing in his bones. 

Adam breathes in slowly, breathing out harsh. James’ foot taps anxiously against the ground. He can't help his lack of focus. Adam is the only thing grounding him from full panic as James focuses on his weight, his movement, every little thing about Adam that he can. Adam himself is still petting at James’ hair, his movements getting gradually more sluggish, slow and tired. He doesn’t look quite there and James bites his lip, tries to focus. 

“James, I-“ Adam tries to make eye contact but his face ends up falling onto James’ shoulder, hand finally stilling, holding the back of James’ head, “I don’t think I can stay awake.” 

And James feels terrible, but says, “That’s okay. I know.” Adam tries to tilt his head but barely manages, can barely lift it to look at him.

“You’re not- you’re not  _ supposed  _ to say that.” The amount of confusion in Adam’s voice could be cute.

“Oh, what should I say then?” James teases, hates how desperate he sounds.

“Usually it’s ‘don’t you fucking dare Adam, I’ll bring you back and kill you myself’?” James laughs a single laugh.

“Never too late for a change of heart.” Then adds, “Besides it’s not like you’re going to die from falling asleep.” (At least if he’s asleep he won’t know, he won’t  _ feel it, he won’t know.)  _

“Going soft in your…” Adam stalls.

“Old age?”

“Yeah, that.” James hums a little acknowledgement, lets it fall as quiet as it can be with the blaring sirens, the incessant  _ ticking.  _ He looks up at the barred doors, back down at Adam. Asks, “Do you want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

Adam gives him such an incredulous look, the tiniest of frowns, “I’m really starting to think you’ve been replaced.” 

“Is that a no?” James counters, because at least he can joke. It makes it feel a bit more normal, hides the edge to his voice. And Adam doesn't reply, continues looking at James with raised eyebrows and a judgemental stare. Still not a no. So James starts, “Once upon a time, an idiot got arrested trying to rob a corner shop.” 

Adam groans, murmurs, “James,  _ why?”  _ and James pets at his hair.

“And when he got arrested he had the pleasure of meeting a handsome, dashing young man.” James pauses, before adding for dramatic effect, “Me.” It works, at least, Adam laughs softly, eyes shut against James. His hand still feels heavy against James’ head. “And the two hit it off, they met up when they got out through _totally_ legal means. The dashing handsome one thought the other was also really dashing and handsome. And really cool. And a bit depressing.”

“Thanks,” Adam mutters, James kisses his forehead.

“And the two joined a gang together with close friends who all supported each other. And they worked hard and the two- the two fell in love.” James’ voice cracks, Adam's eyes blinking open again, James continues before Adam can speak, “And it was kinda stupid, ‘cause, they had a fight, and then they realised they couldn't live without each other and they got back together again and, Adam, I'm so lucky to have met you,  _ fuck.”  _ Adam's eyes are wider, and that's the opposite of what he wanted, why does he always mess things up? 

“James, hey it's okay,” Adam smiles at him, warm and soft, eyes full of love and what did James do to ever deserve his love? God, he's led him to his grave, he's- “Listen to me, hey? ‘M okay, it's just a little blood loss, yeah? It's not gonna kill me.” 

James nods, frantic, “I know, I know.” And Adam pushes through to wipe tears from James’ cheeks, 

“I'll be fine. We both will. Either, the others come ‘n find us or the police do. And they'll break us out but I'll go to hospital ‘n get treated and it'll all be okay.” Adam pauses, out of breath, “Not that I don't appreciate Matt cleaning me up, though.” He trails off again, tired. James grabs Adam's hand, lets it fall to the back of his neck, “No need to cry.” And it seems like it's the end of Adam's energy, his head falls forward dangerously and James has to let go of the wound to steady it, rest him fully on James. He holds Adam's head with both hands, trying to futilely protect it. Adam's hand hadn't moved from James’ neck.

“Adam, you know I love you, right?” James asks, just loud enough for Adam to hear. Adam releases a long breath, relaxes a little more. “Because I do,” James continues, “I really fucking do, Adam. I love you with all my heart, and you mean the absolute world to me.” Adam snorts the tiniest bit and James smiles, helpless. 

“I don't know what I'd do without you, honestly,” Adam tells him and James’ breath comes out ragged because he'd be safe. Without James, Adam would be safe. 

“Adam- you're- you're just, so strong and incredible, you work so hard and you do so much and the world's been so shitty to you and you should've got so much better. But you kept on going and you put up with me and that deserves an award-.” And James realises, when Adam doesn't laugh, or dispute that, that he's fallen asleep. 

James shuffles Adam, tries to look at his face and remember every detail. He's running out of time, he doesn't know what else to do. He counts the freckles across Adam's nose, one for each tick. He messes up his hair, threads the strands through his fingers and James is so lucky to ever have held Adam in his arms. He looks so peaceful and it only makes it hurt more.

At least he's had the chance to ever meet this beautiful, beautiful man.

When he twists his body around he sees a flashing  _ 00:10.  _ James doesn’t prepare himself for a miracle that won’t come. He pulls Adam into his chest, protects him with his own body as much as he possibly can. Part of James knows that it won’t do anything - not really. But it’s the least he can do. He presses a kiss onto Adam’s head one last time, shuts his eyes tight.

There’s a tick, and then a stall, and James’ last thought is  _ ‘I’m so sorry’. _

And then it’s over.

**Author's Note:**

> i mean if u really wanna, pretend there's a happy ending.
> 
> my tumblr is [here!](http://lackyducks.tumblr.com) hit me up.


End file.
